


Across Time

by kaydrama



Category: Mr Queen, Queen Cheorin
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Divergent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Yearning, basically a fck you to canon ending, it made me v pissed so here's cheolbong getting the ending they deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydrama/pseuds/kaydrama
Summary: Because yearning has no limits and boundaries, right?
Relationships: jang bonghwan/cheoljong
Comments: 9
Kudos: 182





	Across Time

**Author's Note:**

> alternate ending to mr queen because bonghwan deserved better and it's a hill i'll die on. 
> 
> also, it might have a missing comma or two!

**BONGHWAN HAS EVERYTHING** , to say the least. He’s back to his original life. He’s no longer wanted—is actually even super famous for being a good guy? Who knew, huh?—he still has a job and is currently on a very much earned leave.

Hell, he even saved Cheoljong in the past and helped him establish the foundation for democracy.

He should be happy, right?

But he isn’t.

The truth is, ever since he woke up from the vegetative state—that being two days ago—he’s been feeling empty. He blames it on the aftereffects of being unconscious in this body for so long. But fucking hell, he knows it’s anything but. The hole in his heart—it’s a hole in the shape of Cheoljong, of Hongyeon, of Court Lady Choi, and hell, even in the shape of Royal Chef.

He opens the picture of Cheoljong on his phone again and stares at the picture. Yes, he had thought Cheoljong was a massive dick when they first met, hated the guts of that man but now, he just misses him. He couldn’t even deny it at this point.

He was _too_ tired to do that.

He just wants to go back—god, he had never thought he would say this—to him. To his Cheoljong.

He keeps staring at the picture and a gut-wrenching scream escapes him. He hadn’t even said goodbye! He hadn’t even gotten the chance to hold Cheoljong’s face in his hands and memorize his features, the slope of his nose, the barely noticeable scar on his chin, or his eyes. Oh, his eyes.

He will never get to see them again. He’ll never actually hear him call him, “My queen” again, would he? He’ll never get to tease him, never call him “Cheoljongie” again or even embroidery another scarf for him.

Shit, that scarf. At least, Cheoljong had a scarf. Anything, something to hold onto in this blackout. What did Bonghwan have? _Nothing._ Absolutely nothing. It could all be a fever dream for all he knew.

He reaches down and places a hand on his belly. He had grown used to seeking comfort from the little one inside him. But then he remembers. His baby is gone, too.

His baby—his little one—is gone. He didn’t even get to see his baby, never got to hold the baby.

How in the world had things gone this way? It’s so unfair. Bonghwan doesn’t deserve any of it. He had been living his life merrily until he was pushed off his own damn balcony and transported to the Joseon era because SoYong decided to throw her life away. Then, he had been almost killed uncountable, seen Byeong In die in front of his own eyes and saved Cheoljong’s ass countless times only to get this?

How is any of this even slightly fair? Who is going to pay for his therapy?

Because god knows he needs therapy. To say he has been traumatized by all of this would be putting it mildly.

He searches up Cheoljong’s name again—now, King CheolJo—and looks at the information given about his family instead. In all of his misery, he had forgotten to see what happened to him. Sure, he had made sure that Cheoljong was okay—physically, at least—but what about emotionally? What happened to Cheoljong if his wife and baby died.

Fuck, if he had died really back then, what about Cheoljong?

In a sudden panic, he goes through Cheoljong’s family history in blind haste. He knows what he’s going to see, is dreading it even, but he still looks.

Although, what he finds is quite isn’t what he expects.

It says that they had a daughter. That Queen Cheorin and the King went on to lay the groundwork for the world for what it is today.

None of it makes sense.

How had the Queen lived? He had time slipped back to his own era…. Unless.

Even the mere idea of it makes him anxious. The idea that SoYong might have come back to her own body after Bonghwan was back in the right time and lived with Cheoljong. _His_ Cheoljong. It makes him sick.

His head feels heavy and his body has such an adverse reaction to that thought that he actually feels like throwing up.

So, he lays down in his bed, throwing the phone across and turns off the lights.

But this blackout is nothing compared to a world without Cheoljong.

* * *

It’s been ten days since his queen had woken up. She’s okay and so is the baby. Cheoljong is supposed to be relieved and happy but something is off.

He feels this inexplainable emptiness in his heart and he can’t place it. He doesn’t understand why. It feels like he’s missing something but he’s not sure what. Because everything he has ever wanted is with him.

So why?

At first, when he had met the queen, he had missed it because he had been too overwhelmed by everything that had happened, had been too worried about her and their baby to notice it. But when he speaks to the queen now, as she sits in front of him while they have dinner together in Daejojeon Hall, it strikes him how different she is.

She still looks the same—like the person he has grown to love but not quite. She’s different. She’s not…. _His queen._ She’s the queen. She feels like the woman he knew before he married her. And he doesn’t like it one bit.

She feels like the shell of the person he loves. He reaches up to the scarf that she had made for him and traces the letters on it—he doesn’t understand what they mean but it still brings him comfort. It seems to be the only thing tying him to his queen. He had asked SoYong this morning, what these letters meant but she had just gotten sad at seeing it. She hadn’t answered his question and he hadn’t probed. He hadn’t probed because he felt guilty about directing the topic when she started talking about their memories—how they had come so far.

It’s eating him up—how he’s having a crisis on if it’s the person he loves. He’s supposed to give her love, take care of her and spend time with her. But now he’s questioning it. He feels uncomfortable at the thought of spending long hours with her because he seems to keep searching for this person that isn’t there.

At times, he catches glimpse of his queen. When she accidentally curses or lifts up her skirt in a way that’s not socially acceptable. But then, in the blink of an eye, she’s gone as this person apologizes for being too rash.

It’s driving him positively crazy. This person is too dainty, too polite and too formal.

He remembers the word the queen had said when she told him how the palace felt without him. It felt like a “blackout”. And even with this person beside him, even with having SoYong beside him, the world feels like a blackout.

The Queen apologizes for yawning in front of him—he bites back then, “why are you being so polite?”—and asks if he’ll be sleeping in Daejojen Hall with her.

“No, I have some work to attend to,” he says softly. It’s not fully untrue. He does have work. Work being sorting out his feelings.

She nods and it looks like she’s waiting for him to leave to get comfortable in her bed. His fists clench.

_It’s not her. It’s not her. It’s not her._ His brain keeps telling him and he wishes it would shut up for once. It has to be her. If not her, who else is this? And if it’s not her, what is he supposed to do?

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says as he helps her lie down on the mattress. She smiles up at him gratefully. The smile is the same as it has always been—but it seems dull.

His heart aches and he feels like a jerk for being a bad husband.

Her eyes fall shut quickly and soon enough, she’s sleeping. She still sleeps like a baby and it makes Cheoljong smile. So, everything hasn’t changed, huh.

He brushes away the strand of her hair from her face as he keeps wondering to himself, _who are you? Will I ever see my queen again? What happened to her?_

* * *

It’s been exactly 314 hours since he woke up from the vegetative state. 314 hours since he left Cheoljong and everyone else behind.

Bonghwan definitely didn’t count the hours. He also definitely didn’t spend all those waking hours reading about Cheoljong and his apparently happy life with his wife.

He’s jealous of SoYong. Goddamit, he’s so jealous of SoYong because she had thrown her life away and Bonghwan had saved the day. It had always been him. Always him until it wasn’t.

SoYong had reaped the fruit of the hard work he had done. He was the one who spent hours in the kitchen to please Grand Queen Dowager, the one who helped Cheoljong come up with plans on numerous occasions, had stayed beside Cheoljong in thick and thins.

They had walked on the path together, not _SoYong_! How did it make any sense for SoYong to just swoop in after she had given up? She had thrown away her life but when it had been easy—all thanks to Bonghwan—she had come back.

He hated it. Oh god, he hated it so much.

He hated the thought of them being happy. But what made him sick to the stomach was that Cheoljong probably didn’t notice.

He had once said that he wouldn’t ever misunderstand or confuse him for anyone else, but hadn’t he? He must have lived with SoYong as if things were the same.

“Ahh, fuck,” he curses, pulling out his hair.

He knows SoYong isn’t at fault, not really. It’s fate. It’s _always_ dammed fate but he needs something to blame. Someone to blame even if it’s irrational. Especially so, if it’s irrational.

He even resented Cheoljong in the beginning. But after some time, it got tiring. He doesn’t have it in him to hate him. He wants to resent him, really, he does, but all he does is miss Cheoljong. He misses his weird antics, his guffawing, his tender touch and his wise and thoughtful words.

How he wishes he were back in Joseon. How he wishes he were back with Hong Yeon and Court Lady Choi to ramble and rant to his heart’s content. But instead, he comes back to an empty flat.

He has visited his mother once ever since he woke up and while he had loved being there, he had soon isolated himself again. He drops the grocery bag on the counter and flicks on the light. It doesn’t make a difference for him but when he had video called his mother, she had told him to live like a human being.

_So, I am just supposed to live now?_

He had thought bitterly but had obliged to what she said, anyway.

He starts cooking. He quit his job as the Blue House Chef two days ago and has been cooking ever since. It’s all he ever does these days. It’s all he can do to keep himself busy, keep himself away from losing his sanity.

He’s hanging by a thin thread.

Once upon a time, cooking used to be therapeutic. But it hasn’t been for a while. It’s exhausting which is why Bonghwan finds himself cooking all day. It’s so easy to get tired and then fall asleep. Bare minimum number of thoughts. No feelings.

But it’s not that easy to escape feelings, he learns as he places a cherry on top of the cream. He’s suddenly reminded of Cheoljong. He had gone at least ten hours without thinking about this man but something about this dish reminds him of Cheoljong.

He realizes he had cooked for almost everyone in the palace but Cheoljong—minus the ramyeon because that were his hormones speaking.

He stares at it, swallowing the lump in his throat.

This is why he hates feelings. They are too overwhelming and there was no escape from them. Feelings are like a swamp, the harder you try to avoid them, to escape, the deeper you fall.

He slams his fist on the countertop, worried in the least about the consequences. There’s no purpose to any of this.

What in the world is he even trying so hard for?

He remembers that time in the forest, when everything that felt dark, hopeless, and then Cheoljong had found him. Amidst the darkness, he had found him but now, he isn’t here….

He will never be. And it fucking breaks Bonghwan.

He tries to scream but no sound comes out. His voice is lodged in his throat. He kicks the dustbin, not noticing that a banana peel has fallen out of the dustbin.

Bonghwan feels himself slip, feels his head hitting the floor and the world goes dark again.

* * *

He dreams of Joseon again. He has dreamt of being back in Joseon multiple times now—more times than he can count on his fingers—that he’s almost memorized this dream. It’s always the same dream.

Cheoljong and him are always in his study, sitting opposite each other as Bonghwan tells him another story about the future, another social science lesson and Cheoljong is always listening, leaning forward in his story, eager to listen to stories like a little child.

But when Bonghwan opens his eyes this time, it’s different.

“It’s not the same,” he whispers as he stares at the ceiling of his room—Soyong’s room—and he tries to sit up and look for the man of his dreams—quite literally because drams are the only place he can meet Cheoljong.

But his body feels tired. It’s weird considering it’s a dream but he supposes that it’s because he’s so mentally tired these days it must weigh down on his body.

“Why does it keep happening to her? I do not understand.” _T_ _here he is_.

For some reason, he sounds angry. Till date, all his dreams had been talking to Cheoljong for hours, him and his tender voice and eagerness to learn but this is different. A moment later, Cheoljong appears in his line of vision.

“Come here,” Bonghwan says, patting the spot next to him.

The king pauses and silently gestures the others in the room—oh, this dream has Court Lady Choi and Hongyeon too, Bonghwan makes sure to shoot them a smile—as he kneels down beside her. “My Queen, are you okay?”

“I am,” he replies although he does feel slightly dizzy and nauseous. “Come closer,” he says, and grabs the other’s hand.

He pauses. It’s warm. Warm in a way that human hands are. Warm in a way that dreams aren’t. Suddenly, he realizes that it isn’t his voice inside his head.

“Holy fucking hell,” he says, voice breaking. “Shit, _it’s real._ You are real.”

The king’s face floods with relief as he leans forward to hold his face between his hands. Bonghwan instinctively leans into the touch. “My queen” he says, and it fills Bonghwan with such a deep sense of joy that it overwhelms him.

“Say it again,” he whispers, holding onto Cheoljong’s hands.

Cheoljong looks baffled but he understands quickly. “My queen, you are here,” he says and it seems to him like Cheoljong is just as relieved.

“Cheoljongie,” Bonghwan whispers and he can’t even express just how happy he is to say his name. He says it over and over again, like a chant, like a prayer, in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that Cheoljong is really here. To savor this as long as possible lest it is a vivid dream.

“I was so worried—” Cheoljong begins as his arms wrap around Bonghwan. “You became so sad when I asked you what ‘daesang’ meant and then, and then, you just fainted,” the other man sounds breathless as his worry seeps into his voice. His arms become even tighter around him but Bonghwan isn’t complaining. God, he would be the biggest liar on the planet if he said he didn’t want to be there forever.

In the steady and strong arms of Cheoljong.

“You haven’t been like yourself lately,” Cheoljong continues and it makes him stiffen. As if he senses that the other is comfortable, Cheoljong begins drawing a pattern on his back and he melts into Cheoljong’s embrace. “But I can tell It’s you. It’s really you.”

Bonghwan freezes as he thinks about the time slip. It keeps happening at random times, what happens if he goes back again?

Oh, sweet lord, he wouldn’t be able to bear the pain again. The world finally has some light and he doesn’t want it to go pitch black again. He isn’t ready.

“I don’t want to go back,” he whispers into Cheoljong’s chest. “I can’t go back. I can’t leave you again, no, no, it can’t happen again. Oh god, let this be a dream,” he blabbers, making half sense because he’s so goddamn scared. He clings to Cheoljong like his life depends upon it.

It would hurt less if this were a dream than being yeeted to the future again.

“My queen, what’s wrong?” Cheoljong asks worriedly and he can feel Cheoljong wriggling in his embrace.

“Don’t ask anything. Let’s just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers quietly, trying to hold on as long as possible. At that, Cheoljong stops resisting. They elapse into a silence and for once, for once, Bonghwan welcomes it.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, making Bonghwan freeze.

He finally loosens the death grip he had on Cheoljong, pulling away slightly.

“What?” he echoes.

“I love you,” he says even more softly. He speaks it like it’s a fact, like it’s a reminder but Bonghwan can’t believe him. Not really.

“Even if I am who I say I am?” “What?” “Even if I am a man from the future?” he asks, terrified of the answer but if Cheoljong says no, well, it’ll hurt like a bitch, but it will be easier to hate him. It will be easier to let go of him. When he has to leave.

“My queen…”

“Answer me.”

Cheoljong leans forward instead, meeting him in a slow kiss and the other lets him.

“I’ll always love you. Only you. In every form, _across time and space_. I’ll always love you, my queen.”

\-- **THE END--**

* * *


End file.
